


Paying Dues And Learning Vices

by Charli



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Rough Sex, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-26 12:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charli/pseuds/Charli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah those hot summer nights…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paying Dues And Learning Vices

**Author's Note:**

> Title and Lyrics by Wet Wet Wet

_~With those angel eyes you make the saints do sins all the time.  
Say I’m gonna stay, home and away… _

There’s a soft light escaping from under the door of the study. Richard pads quietly across the landing, bare feet sinking into the soft carpet, and gently pushes the door open.

James is hunched over his Apple Notebook, glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. He’s lost in thought, a million miles away from Richard, who watches him, heartbeat escalating slightly at the sight of the man he loves.

James’ glasses are made from memory metal, so that it doesn’t matter if he sits on them, leaves then in his pocket, or even if Fusker drags them off the dresser during one of his hunting expeditions. They’re slightly skewed as a result, and when combined with his slightly messy and slightly too long grey and auburn hair it conspires to make a look that Richard finds not only endearing, but almost painfully arousing.

Richard makes his way stealthily into the room, a semi-naked midnight ninja, and rests his hands lightly on James’ shoulders.

James starts slightly and then grunts “It’s late, you should go to bed.”

Richard peers over James shoulder “I did, you weren’t there.”

James pushes his glasses up his nose, “I want to get this article finished.” he says “It’s already two days overdue.”

Richard squeezes the tight muscles of James’ shoulders and gently digs his fingers into the firm flesh. James reaches up and touches Richard’s hand, but still he doesn’t look up from the computer. “Ten more minutes.” He murmurs, and carries on typing with practised fingers, with his long pianist’s fingers.

Richard feels James beginning to relax under his kneading fingertips and eventually James leans his head back against Richard’s bare chest.

Richard is clad only in a pair of snug fitting jersey shorts and the faintest of summer breezes is wafting in through the slightly open window. It’s refreshingly cool against his hot skin. He wraps his arms around James and rests his chin on James’ head. James stops typing.

“It’s difficult to type with you attached to me.” He points out.

James is wearing his favourite Hawker Hurricanes t-shirt and his usual artfully scruffy jeans. The t-shirt is sticking slightly against James’ damp skin. This weekend of summer that they’re having makes the nights really too hot for clothes, but somehow James can’t abide the thought of sitting naked in front of his computer. It’s as if the world might be able to peek in at him through the screen.

Richard plucks at the light fabric, “It’s too hot for this.” Richard tells him, and presses his face into the damp curls of James’ hair.

James lets out a sigh and swivels around in his chair to face him. “Are you going to sod off so I can get this finished?” he asks.

Richard stands back and looks thoughtful for a moment, arms folded defiantly across his chest. James swallows; an involuntary response as he takes in the firm tanned flesh, the lightly defined abs and the jutting hip bones in front of him.

“No.” says Richard finally.

James considers his options briefly and then turns away and powers down his Notebook. Then he pushes the chair back from the desk and stand up in front of Richard. “You irritating little fuck.” James says, and Richard just grins.

James slides a hand around the back of Richard’s neck and pulls him hard onto his lips for a deep kiss. Richard lets James’ tongue part his lips and explore his mouth. Richard has a minty fresh toothpaste taste and James laces his fingers through Richards’s hair as Richard’s hands tug at the hem of James’ t-shirt.

James breaks off the kiss and looks at Richard, who is all wide-eyed and pouty in the half-light from the desk lamp. James removes his glasses and tosses them casually aside. “You really are fucking sexy Hammond.” He observes and is treated immediately to another flash of those pearly whites.

“You’re not so bad yourself mate.”

James shrugs “I’m middle-aged, grey haired, slightly squidgy around the middle and slightly shabby around the edges.” He says self-deprecatingly.

Richard runs his hands up James’ arms and grips his taut biceps “You’re better than you believe. All those female fans can’t be wrong.”

“Yes,” says James “I am a veritable love God.”

“Prove it.”

James lowers his head and then butts himself into Richard’s midriff causing Richard to fold over James’ shoulder. James straightens and, with considerable effort, carries the smaller man fireman’s lift style from the study to bedroom.

James dumps Richard unceremoniously onto the bed and pants slightly from the exertion. He’s even stickier than before, his hair plastered to his face. “You’re bloody heavy.” He tells Richard.

“You’re insane, you could’ve done yourself an injury.” Comes the reply.

James falls heavily onto the bed beside him “You love it when I come over all manly.”

“Oh yes,” says Richard “Because I’m such a girl.”

“You are too pretty to be much of bloke.”

“Fuck off.”

James unbuckles his belt and tugs down his jeans; Richard straddles his thighs and assists him in pulling his t-shirt off. “Better.” Says Richard, and lets his fingers trace a feather-light line from James’ chest down to the soft downy patch of hair below the belly button.

James is wearing loose cotton boxers with tiny little Spitfires on them, a present from his niece and nephew. “Nice pants mate.” Richard remarks.

James grabs the younger man’s hips and throws him off his lap and back onto the bed. James rolls heavily onto Richard, pinning Richard’s arms above his head and trapping his legs between his own. “You were saying.” James says.

Richard struggles in vain, there’s lot more muscle to James May then people realise. He can feel James’ hard cock pressing against his hip and his own cock responds in kind. James bites roughly at Richard’s neck, all the while holding Richard’s wrists fast against the pillows.

Richard’s breathing deepens; it’s at times like this that he finds it almost impossible to comprehend just how sexy his partner actually is. He wishes there was a mathematical equation to define it all nice and neatly. It’s an equation he’d be happy to provide the proof for – The James May Conundrum and Hammond’s Definitive Theorem.

As one hand still holds Richard’s arms in place, the other is pulling sharply at his underwear. Richard is no longer fighting back. James is usually so passive, so undemonstrative, that when he gets carried away like this it’s all that Richard can do not to come right here and now.

Suddenly his wrists are released and with his shorts dragged free from his body, he surrenders completely. James lifts Richard’s legs up onto his shoulders and enters him roughly. Once again James has rendered him completely shocked. James has somehow managed to remove his own and Richard’s underwear, slick his cock with spit and all this while still keeping Richard pinioned on the bed.

Richard gasps as James enters him in a single thrust, the head of his cock brushing against James stomach. There’s no doubting it, James has a presence - both inside him and out. He fills Richard’s ass with his impressive cock, and Richard can feel James’ balls bouncing softly against his buttocks as James grinds him deep into the mattress.

Richard is hot and tight around James’ cock, there’s a little friction but it’s of the good kind.

“Come inside me.” Richard begs him, and he’s a man not normally given to begging.

“I fully intend to.” Moans James and grips Richard’s legs hard as he rides him home.

As James gasps and shudders and comes deep inside Richard, Richard, hand on his cock and fisting furiously in time with James, comes over James’ belly. James collapses onto him and they both feel their stomachs sticking together as James slides softly out of Richard.

“Get off me.” Richard grunts and James heaves himself slowly onto his side.

“Sorry.” James says softly and there’s a worried look on his face that definitely wasn’t there before.

“What are you sorry for?” Richard asks, breathing heavily, “That was fucking amazing.” And he reaches over to the bed stand for the packet of Marlboro Lights and the lighter that’s resting there.

“I was a bit rough.” James mumbles apologetically as Richard lights them both a cigarette and passes one to James in a single, amazingly sexy gesture that really only Cary Grant should be able to get away with.

“I like a bit of rough, didn’t you know?” Richard says between inhalations, “I am a country boy after all.”

James looks hard into those gentle chocolate eyes that are framed by sooty lashes and tiny laughter lines, looking for any hint of a lie, or denial, but he finds none.

James rolls onto his back and takes a long drag from his cigarette “So that’s what I am is it? A bit of rough?”

Richard grins, and James can’t see wicked glint that is flashing in those innocent wide eyes, “It could be rougher mate.” Richard replies “We haven’t tried bondage yet. Or spanking.”

And as James almost gives himself a coronary from coughing he also manages to burn a hole in his favourite duvet cover as he drops his cigarette in shock.


End file.
